


alucinatus

by vanitaslaughing



Series: Cor Leonis Week [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreamsharing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, angst without happy ending, bonded people share dreams, ish at least?, its a foregone conclusion that this cant end happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: Through the haze and darkness he was able to see exactly two things beside the buildings:A blood red moon.The stranger standing beneath it.





	alucinatus

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 of Cor Leonis Week - Ships Day.
> 
> AKA despite hesperus, i am horrendously bad at delivering happy content. Oops.  
> its 5am i am impervious to physical damage

Cor first met him once upon a dream. A weirdly hazy dream, one that took place in what seemed to be a nondescript part of Insomnia. No lights were on in the buildings, and in the distance he thought he heard what sounded either like the roar of water or a building crumbling. The night seemed off compared to the normal nights in Lucis, its embrace felt strangely warped. Through the haze and darkness he was able to see exactly two things beside the buildings:

A blood red moon.

The stranger standing beneath it.

He had had stranger dreams in his life, but something about this was thoroughly unsettling. Blood moons were rare and always brought nothing but trouble with them, and a single stranger in an empty city while the sky was dark, the mist was drifting and the moon shone in the colour of blood? Those were the signs of something terrible about to unfold, but perhaps part of him knew that this was a dream. Cor raised a hand. The stranger raised his hand at the same time.

It quickly became apparent that whatever he did, the stranger mimicked the movement. Like a strange, cloudy mirror he would even blink at the same time – perhaps even their hearts beat at the same time in this place. It was uncanny, but eventually Cor stopped.

 _[Who are you],_ he mouthed at the man, though Cor did not know if he would just mouth the same words back at him. There was a moment of no movement, only the sound of rushing water or crumbling buildings and a tense atmosphere that covered the crossroads he was standing at.

 _[A man of no consequence,]_ the stranger mouthed back, and Cor knew that was a lie.

This dream was too strange for it to not be of some consequence. After all it was all too common for people who appeared in other’s dreams to have some relevance to each other’s lives. Some people called it an invisible tie binding them together, but none of the people involved knew how it would wind up being. Too many stories were about people who thought that they were destined to be lovers but in the end they were on opposing sides of a battlefield, mortal enemies until the last drop of blood was shed. Too many stories were about people who never met, who accidentally tormented each other in their sleep. A bond of souls, and Cor’s was with a man who stood in a deserted city under a blood moon.

He turned around and left, and knew that the stranger under the moon mirrored his movements and left in the opposite direction.

* * *

The next time they met underneath the blighted skies of the Lucian wilderness. It was so unlike the countryside that Cor knew, but still he followed the tug he felt as soon as he opened his eyes. He tried to figure out what the place these dreams were set in could mean, for there was always a meaning behind it. While not always following a strict pattern there were many observations that people had made about the shared dreamscape. How people destined to be lovers had calming dreams, gentle and set in places they knew. Those destined to be enemies shared passionate ones, powerful and intimidating yet familiar somehow.

This was just disconcerting at best. If the uncanny resemblance between MTs and humans was already unsettling, this dreamscape felt objectively worse than staring at a MT for too long. He’d heard plenty of people talk about their dreams before, but this one was unlike any he had ever read or heard about.

Eventually he met the stranger again, once more under the blood moon.

“Who are you?”

This time Cor spoke loud and clear, and his voice rang across the ominously empty plains of Lucis. The stranger moved slightly – his movement was accompanied by the distinct rustle of feathers. It was too dark to see him properly, but against the red light and darkness Cor realises that he seems to be wearing a wing adornment on his arm. Perhaps this wasn’t a human at all but a daemon instead, and the yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark suggested the same.

The man just laughed. A soft, definitely startling sound. “I already told you last time. A man of no consequence. And who might you be?”

There were several things Cor could have said. He stared at the man for a moment before turning his head to the sky. The man followed his gaze and they stood there staring at the moon for a second.

“Ah,” the man of no consequence then whispered, “you don’t know.”

“There is something to know?”

“Many things, but perhaps it is not yet time for you to know.”

The dream dissolved around Cor as the terrifying sensation set in and woke him up. The feeling of dread persisted throughout the entire day as he went about his business, up to even Prince Noctis pulling on his sleeve at some point.

The prince was bound to a wheelchair after a daemon attack that had nearly claimed his life. Behind the wheelchair stood the prince’s ever present best friend and future advisor Ignis, a child barely older than the prince himself.

“Are you okay, Mr Marshal?” The dull voice of a child who had suffered more than a child his age should bear. The Chosen, unable to walk and looking like a pitiful lump of misery.

“I’m fine, Your Highness.”

He gestured at Ignis and the two children were off – and Cor felt even worse than before. Dread, dread, dread. Many people could share their dreams if their fates were entangled, and it was no secret that during nights Prince Noctis met with Princess Lunafreya and Ignis in Tenebrae. The prince had talked about it very animatedly with his father before the accident had sapped him of his strength and joy. How the girl danced in the torrential rain with him and Ignis. Three people in the same dreamscape – just like his father watched over Insomnia at dusk together with Aulea Trucilo and Clarus Amicitia, just how there was an empty space where the late queen used to sit in their dreams.

And Cor’s dreams remain those of darkness, of meeting a man he did not even know the name of under the blood red moon.

* * *

“Cor Leonis,” the stranger whispered, and a gust went through the clearing. It drowned out every noise, drowned out how Cor asked how the stranger knew his name. The atmosphere shifted from vaguely threatening to looming doom. It was getting increasingly hard to breathe and even the red moon through the trees seemed to vanish behind dark clouds. Black particles danced through the rising storm. He raised his arm to shield his eyes, and yet the stranger did not move. Not once did the stranger move.

Yellow eyes, stark against the sudden darkness, appeared between the trees. Looming doom became ruin ready to pounce and even through the storm Cor could hear the low growling.

That was the first time the stranger ever moved. Normally he stood and watched as Cor attempted to get answers, and suddenly he offered him a hand.

“Different though our countries may be, perhaps it is time to wake from your dream, Cor.”

Cor realised in that moment as the shadows shifted in the trees, as the moon vanished completely, that he was sharing his dreams with a Niff. The enemy – an enemy who knew his name. It only meant that he was in the same sleeping world as someone high up the rank chain in the empire of ice, snow and machinery.

Through the deafening sound of the storm he once more heard the ruffle of feathers.

He realised who he was with when he grabbed the stranger’s hand. All of a sudden the wind died down, and though the atmosphere remained choking and tense the eyes amongst the trees vanished. With the return of the moon he caught a glimpse of his unknown partner.

Ardyn Izunia, chancellor of Niflheim.

* * *

The dreams did not become any less unsettling, but Cor quickly learned to appreciate them for what they were. Ardyn could be an interesting conversational partner when he was not being unnecessarily cryptic, and though the sun never shines it does not feel that wrong any longer.

Though apprehensive at first, eventually Ardyn did drop the cryptic facade, and they started talking. In his dreams he was underneath the dark skies of Lucis with a man he would never come face to face with, having conversations about whimsical topics like their daily workload. They were by any means enemies, but hearing a politician complain about the sheer amount of nonsense he had to deal with with his department daily was riveting. Interesting even.

“You’d have made an excellent politician if you had not decided on the military path. You think quickly and rationally with the best for everyone else involved.”

Cor laughed that night beneath the blood moon.

He did not laugh the next day. The second he awoke he felt the same dread he did in his dreams, like there was a blade hanging above his head that was ready to drop and slice him in half at any given moment.

Tenebrae was attacked by Niflheim. It took until the sun set for Clarus to report back in and say that King Regis and Prince Noctis were in one piece and Prince Ravus and Princess Lunafreya likely unharmed but in imperial custody now. He went to sleep feeling uneasy.

He awoke to what looked like the Vesperpool, lying quiet underneath the starless sky. Not even the moon shone this night and the black particles danced through the air as he stared at the still water surface. The water looked dead and bracken, and Cor started to realise with a jolt of terror that the earth in his dreams was blighted or dead, consumed by something beyond his understanding. Considering the way the prophecies and myths surrounding the Chosen and the Accursed went, he started to wonder if his dreams weren’t showing him the future.

But what did it mean? Was he the Accursed, born before the Chosen?

Cold dread held him in its iron grip until at least he heard steps behind him. Cor did not turn around.

The last few months had been almost comforting. He felt closer to the man than most other people in all of Lucis, and though the dreams were strange it was not by any means unpleasant. He enjoyed Ardyn’s company more than that of his peers – and it was terrifying whenever he thought too long about it. They were supposed to be enemies.

He almost wanted to ask if Ardyn had been in Tenebrae. He never did and simply watched the still waters until at long last Ardyn moved again.

They did not say a single word to one another that night. And that was fair and right.

The next night beside the Vesperpool they talked about the same things as always. Politics. Recruits. The glaring fact that Niflheim had killed the Oracle notwithstanding. It wasn’t like Ardyn had personally ordered the military strike; the chancellor held no power over the military.

* * *

“The meaning?”

“The corrupted energies. The eternal darkness. The Daemons always lurking out of sight. All of this has to have a meaning, Ardyn, and I--”

For the first time in a while Ardyn was the one who moved first. Before Cor could ever finish his sentence – his thought, even – the chancellor had put his hands on Cor’s cheeks and leaned in. For a moment the darkness seemed to roar, with the wind picking up once again. The sea of the dream’s Cape Caem crashed angrily against the cliffs, the surge of water loud and deafening. Something in the trees moved once again, frantically, desperately almost. Something was definitely squirming and for a moment it sounded like something was screeching in protest and telling Ardyn to stop. For a split moment he thought he heard something threaten Ardyn that after all those hundreds of years they could easily tear another mortal to shreds.

It stopped when Ardyn stepped back again, seemingly not caring about the voices that had suddenly yelled in protest as the entire dreamscape dramatically shifted. But it was silent again, with the sea lying as dead and bracken as anything ever did in this place, and Ardyn smiled at him.

Cor woke that day without the dread that had long become a companion. He was content for once, to a point that people who knew him commented on it. Even Prince Noctis raised an eyebrow at him when they passed each other in a hallway – people knew Cor as the one who never talked about his dreams. As far as people were concerned he didn’t have any. The prince and his best friend stuck their heads together and began urgently whispering, likely discussing whether something about Cor was off or not.

The night he spent at Cape Caem again in the twisted landscapes of his dreams, content as he was before. Something about seeing the moon hanging red in the sky was comforting by now, familiar. Enemies they were, but Cor was undeniably overjoyed to meet this supposed enemy every night from now on.

He realised too late he had fallen in love with the man, and even as the reaction of the dreamscape was the same every time they as much as touched each other, he did not mind. Anyone else would have called it a nightmare. It was normal for Cor.

At least it was until years later, when he stood patrol and a recruit ran up to him with a scared expression.

“Marshal, there is… there is a man claiming to be an envoy of Niflheim at the gates. Someone of the gate watch must’ve let him through, and none of us are sure how to proceed, and...”

When he enquired about what this supposed envoy looked like, he both felt elated and terrified.

Red hair. Strange clothes. An odd way of moving about, as if the man was swaying in the wind like a brittle leaf. A wing ornament that rustled in the warm breeze that went through Insomnia that day. Eyes that were unsettling at best and utterly disconcerting at worst.

As he led the man through the hallways fighting the urge to ask anything and everything at once sometime later, he heard a low chuckle behind him. The recruit was announcing the envoy’s arrival to the king, and Cor was to leave Ardyn at the doors to the throne room.

“Prophetic,” was all Ardyn said when they arrived at the door, “perhaps the dreams you wonder about so much are prophetic, beloved Marshal.”

* * *

After the fall he found himself standing on a plain with nothing but the red moon above. He knew he was alone for once for some reason and started moving on his own. He was pacing at first, wide circles to distract himself. The circles became smaller and less wide, oval almost, until he was effectively turning around on the spot. In his dreams he never got dizzy. He simply watched the landscape blur together from the movement, trying to not think about the chancellor of Niflheim as he normally did whenever he slept. Eventually he closed his eyes and froze mid-motion for no reason whatsoever.

He was under the blood moon, all on his own.

His personal little twisted wonderland.

And he waited for the only other person to ever walk these lands to arrive, both yearning and loathing at the same time. Niflheim was the reason Lucis was in shambles. Niflheim caused the grief and rage that Prince Noctis had spat at him the other day in the tomb. Niflheim, Niflheim, Niflheim. Cor was in cahoots with the enemy, even though he had never once let crucial information slip. He may have been in love with the enemy, but he was not stupid – and Ardyn likely did the very same. All the secrets between them, everything left in the dark.

Cor laughed, his voice echoing across the plains of dead grass under a thin layer of frost.

* * *

His dreams were a hazy vision, blurry and dissonant. The only thing that was clear, the only thing that ever stood out, was Ardyn, it was ever Ardyn. At some point Cor had to wonder if he was addicted – he was, he definitely was – and if it would be wiser to stop while he was ahead.

But every night he found himself with the man again, for that was how those dream bonds worked. Every night he would roam the blighted earth with him, with only the red moon and the dream’s Daemons as their witnesses.

“A warrior fencing in the dark has always been a marvel to behold,” Ardyn whispered in his ears one night, “but a warrior dancing underneath a blood moon was never something I considered in my life.” The way he said it made Cor freeze for a moment – as if the chancellor was much older than he let on. “It is rather enchanting a thought. Doubly so since the warrior in question is so thoroughly intoxicating.”

The following kiss left Cor breathless; he was rather certain that if this were the waking world he would have passed out from lack of oxygen long before he and Ardyn ever broke apart. Just another layer of unsettling despite making him feel happier and fulfilled than he had ever felt in his entire life.

* * *

Darkness fell, and Cor realised with a jolt of terror one day what Ardyn had meant.

 _Prophetic_.

He had called their shared dreamscape prophetic.

For now the world was in one piece, warding against the darkness. It wouldn’t be too long before the waters became stale and muddy, until the earth became raw and frosted over. Vegetation would die and leave but scarred and scraggly trees standing, and if there were still wind going the by any means it would be a deafening sound for Lucis lay silent and dead. The only sound that echoed across the plains and soon-to-be-dead lakes was the screeching of Daemons.

The skies were dark and empty, but even through the thick clouds he could see the moon.

He was alone in his dreams nowadays, standing in a city devoid of any presence. Though he knew now what Ardyn’s role in this play was, Cor was longing to see him again just once – but Ardyn never showed up. The city that looked like Insomnia but without a single living soul in it. It was like the city beyond the horizon in the darkness, lifeless, lightless.

He never saw the moon in his dreams again. But today as he looked up at the sky, he could see that something had changed while he had tried to find the Daemon he was looking for. Through the layers of clouds and floating miasma he could see the moon.

Blood red, blotted out by dark, hazy grey. Even though this was the waking world and he should be unsettled by it, Cor breathed in slowly. This was familiar, comforting. Though his dreams were desolate and lonely and thoroughly unsettling now he could stare at this moon and felt a sense of relief flood through him.

This wasn’t good at at all.

He had to focus on the hunt, but soon enough he realised that when he had previously been stalked by Daemons they had all but vanished now. The silence was choking and held the region in its iron grip, the only sound that of his own boots on the ground. Eventually he stopped and turned his head to stare at the moon once again.

“It is most unwise to keep your eyes anywhere but on the ground nowadays, for you never know what lurks in the dark.”

Cor cringed when he felt the warm breath on his neck, but he was not able to jump away. He was being held in an almost iron grip, familiar as most of the dark was.

“Prophetic,” he whispered as Ardyn put his chin on Cor’s shoulder. All the other man did was laugh softly into the night, too gently almost.

“Most others throughout the years ran. They never acknowledged my presence and severed the connection, forged new ones. Yet you approached me despite the fact you were clearly scared. I would outlive them anyway, so what did it matter? But you… you stared through the veil of darkness in your dreams and spoke to me. The only out of so many. The only warrior to not raise his weapon underneath the moonlit skies.”

The Accursed. That was what Ignis had called the chancellor when they had returned from Gralea without prince and Crystal. Cor had never wanted to believe that, but he could feel it now. The way the darkness shifted. The way the moon shone red for this man he had irrevocably fallen in love with.

He freed himself from Ardyn’s iron embrace – over thirty years of training in the military, four years of hunting and three of which had been in what people called eternal darkness gave him an edge even over the Accursed – and stared at the other for a split second. Ardyn had never aged, he looked the same as he did in Cor’s dreams. Bewitchingly handsome even as his eyes glowed in the dark.

After three years of not seeing the man at all it was like rubbing salt in a fresh wound. But still Cor once more realised that he had fallen in love with this man who quite literally was the devil haunting his beloved home, and he all but grabbed Ardyn by the collar to pull him in.

* * *

For years they met under the blood moon. Chance meetings some would call them. Cor knew that they both orchestrated them; the Marshal by being as far away from others on solo missions as possible and Ardyn always waiting somewhere in the darkness.

Too late he realised that he was setting himself up for a tragedy.

The Accursed would die by the hands of the Chosen, and inevitably Noctis rose. Inevitably he would march into Insomnia and end it, and Cor had to choke back tears when the sun rose for the first time. Three kings he had outlived.

Four kings if he counted Ardyn since he knew the truth by now.

Cor last met him once upon a nightmare.

The first time he closed his eyes after darkness he found himself in a completely silent, empty city. Even in his dreams the sun rose, and it made his heart race more than the darkness ever did. Where the darkness had been unsettling yet strangely comforting, the light merely crushed him. It was loud and choking, and he started walking. He vaguely remembered this being the way that he had gone the first time he had ever shared a dream.

Eventually he reached a familiar crossing.

All he saw there was black blood, splattered on the ground, on the buildings, sizzling and steaming in the light of dawn. There would be absolutely nothing left and he could only watch as the crystalline red weapon floating above the puddle of blood shattered and vanished into nothingness. For but a moment he thought he saw Ardyn reach for his weapon before it exploded into hundreds and millions of tiny pieces. A rain of glass at dawn. Cor woke with a start, his heart beating wildly. Everyone said he looked like he had barely slept.

Just one time Ardyn was there, smiling into the rising sun, even going as far as waving goodbye. Many people heralded the sun, but it was torment for Cor. A tragedy, and he had set himself up for it. If he had just walked away like everyone else had. But instead he had accepted the stranger in his dreams, a stranger he would never see again.


End file.
